Cold Cases
by TakeMyBlackHeart
Summary: One night Holmes and Watson are interrupted by an unexpected guest with a cold case. May leave as one-shot, may turn into full story - see inside! Review if you want - review if you don't.


"I can feel it Watson, excitement is just around the corner." Sherlock Holmes said from his chair on the right of the hearth.

He had barely touched his tea and his eyes were glowing with a light that had been quite distant these past two weeks.

"You have been saying that exact sentence for the past fortnight Holmes.

Though I must admit, today it has had the most emotion in it.

What has brought about this change?"

I questioned him bringing my tea to my lips.

Holmes had been quite bored and un co-operative recently which is general behaviour after a case has been put to bed.

However, never does he spark this much life unless he is sure we are onto a new lead.

"You said it yourself my dear Holmes! A fortnight! Two weeks is a very comfortable amount of time to wait, a nice even amount of patience.  
I am sure today that we will be blessed with excitement."

He stood up and stretched himself out, almost like a cat before sitting back down and surveying me.

"But what is wrong with you Watson? Your shoulder cannot still be hurting from your little knock this morning. I was assured you were made of much hardier stuff."

"Little knock? Holmes I was knocked harshly into a wall but tell me again, how do you know these things?"

"I have said it before and I shall say it again.

You look but you do not see Watson.

That is your problem.

On your right shoulder there is a distinct smudge of chalk and a splinter.

That is all the evidence I need.

Plus you keep rubbing your shoulder in a most aggravating way to watch."

I immediately dropped my hand which, as he had been talking, had meandered it's way to the top of my shoulder and had gently massaged it.

"Sorry my dear Holmes you are quite right." I apologized knowing really that he cared immensely for me as worry flashed in his eyes at such a trivial hurt.

"When do you expect your excitement to arrive then?" I asked for change of topic from my misfortunes.

Holmes cocked his head towards the door and I too distinctly heard the door open and footsteps echo through the house.

"Well, I'd say our excitement is right here and what a rather noisy bit it is too."

He declared settling himself in a straighter position than the slumped one he had resided in before.

Sure enough, the visitor to the household was incredibly loud and most definitely female.

After a few moments upon which Holmes and I braced ourselves for what was too come,

Mrs Hudson let into our lodgings a young girl of about 18 dressed in a light, sky blue barège dress,

her wispy blonde hair was piled upon her head in an messy bun uncommon for girls of her time.

By the way she walked it was clear that underneath her dress she wore huge boots that were also most un lady like and yet she did not seem to care.

Upon arrival she first looked me over and then turned her gaze to Holmes.

She then declared,

"Will someone offer a young lady some tea upon arrival or is that simply not how things are done?"

A strange face had been painted across Holmes, one of repulsion, admiration and complete shock and so I was not at all surprised when he replied,

"Things that are simply done elsewhere do not happen here."

The girl simply smiled at him rather sympathetically as if she knew exactly what he would say.

I however, not sure of why this girl upset Holmes offered her my chair and went to fetch her some tea.

I could hear the two quietly whispering to each other and their voices were raising as I returned with her tea.

As I walked back in they stopped their talk but Holmes looked rather flustered and the girl simply pleased with herself.

Seeing as Holmes was not going to issue a word I decided to speak up.

"People who mainly come here are looking for Holmes' service. Is that what you require?"

"In a whole, yes." She replied with her Yorkshire accent.

"Maybe you'd like to tell me what is bothering you Miss…" I trailed off not knowing who I was addressing and she replied to me,

"I shall tell a brief tale and divulge you with further information wish you join my plight.

My name is Miss Georgia Clarkslee and I am here on a most urgent case which has recently turned cold.

It began two years ago and has been under investigation upon mine and my family's request and now the police have given it up much to my dismay.

I however, do not believe there is nothing more they can do.

So I have come in person to you who have solved and cleared bigger cases than this."

I glanced at Holmes to see his reaction to find he was staring right back at me.

I turned my attention back to Georgia who was a girl in appearance but a rebellious soul inside.

As I turned from one to the other something clicked in my mind which should have been very obvious from the start.

I addressed Georgia again,

"Your story, though brief was quite intriguing. Tell me, as I am sure you know, why does Holmes not respond to your tale."

Her answer baffled me and reminded me of Holmes' odd ways so much that I took a few moments before replying to her question.

"Have you ever been drunk Dr. Watson?"

"Indeed I have Miss Clarkslee."

"Please, call me Georgia, I am not one for formalities. Now let me rephrase, have you ever seen Sherlock Holmes drunk?"

"Most certainly Miss Georgia."

"This 'miss' business is most certainly annoying,"

She said imitating my voice upon reaching the 'most certainly' part.

She was one of the strangest women I had had the chance to meet on my journey with Sherlock Holmes and I was quite baffled by her.

"Have you ever seen Sherlock incredibly drunk?

By incredibly I ask you to imagine, 20, no 50 men who cannot hold their liquor.

Imagine them all drinking a cup of the strongest beer or gin, that choice is up to your imagination, that you can find.

That amount of drunkenness is surely what Mr. Holmes had achieved one fateful night."

I was not sure whether she was lying to me, it was clear she was exaggerating,

but though her eyes were beautiful they could hold secrets yet her voice never quavered with the thrill of lies.

"I have never seen him in a state like that." I replied cautiously. "Why would this matter in any case?"

"You asked me what was wrong with Mr. Sherlock and I am leading up to it. He has never been one for women in general."

She stated, emphasising the general part.

Upon reaching this point in her story which she was evidently enjoying telling, Holmes stood up,  
walked to the back of her chair and placed both hands on her shoulders rather roughly.

"That is enough Georgia. Watson. Leave."

He said abruptly and I was rather taken aback for I could not recall him ever speaking to me in that tone.

It was most undoubtedly my shock which stood me to the spot that allowed me to hear their next conversation.

"Sherlock Holmes. Are you really going to deny me as your daughter?" Georgia said with a glint in her eye.

"You know now I cannot return to my home without facing horrifying consequences for my flight and do not deny sleeping with my mother Ruth,

for she has a letter of apology stashed in her bedside cupboard which she occasionally gloats over when she is down."

I knew then that Holmes had met his match.

Not from someone cleverer than him in any respect but from a sly, teenage girl who knew how to get her way.

It still astounds me even now that Holmes has a daughter

and I wonder still if he ever had an inkling of what could have come from that fateful night with Ruth Clarkslee nee Anderson.

On seeing Holmes' defeated face as he stood rather despairingly behind the chair I took my leave not wishing to further intrude.

Instead I reserved a room not far from the local gambling hall and spent my night throwing away money and having a good time.

It was clear that Holmes would accept Georgia's request, through his own free will or not and I knew that from now on,

I would need all my wits about me to keep me from her delicate clutches.


End file.
